


Not Perfect Sextiel

by posingasme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Because sometimes it just is, Big Brother Dean, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, not perfect sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 10:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7529317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, even when everything else seems perfect, the sex just...well...isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Perfect Sextiel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosworms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosworms/gifts), [Zetal (Rodinia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/gifts).



> For Rosworms who says my Sastiel stories always include perfect sex. And for Z who just might get a kick out of it.

Dean didn't have the heart to tell either of his brothers that they were both coming to him individually to lament their terrible sex life. 

He pictured himself grabbing each of them by the hair and shoving them into a room together and telling them to talk it out like grown men between the two of them. But he knew he would never do it. Sam would explode into a cloud of blushing embarrassment, and he would be left cleaning up what remained of a sniveling Castiel. So he poured himself another whiskey and simply nodded at the right times. 

“For one thing,” Castiel was sighing over the phone, “he's just too long!”

Dean closed his eyes. “You mean, his-his-”

“And that's generally a good thing, I suppose, but it makes things very tricky.”

He threw back the last of the whiskey in his glass and poured yet another. “I can't imagine,” he muttered. Except that he could imagine, and that was something he was never going to be able to bleach out of his mind. He knew entirely too much about his kid brother's anatomy by now. He might never be sober again. 

“I don't know,” Sam groaned into his beer. “Everything else is so perfect. You know?”

Dean did know. He had been the one to watch his brother and his best friend dance around one another, like awkward, paranoid cats who each wanted to cuddle, for months before he had gotten exasperated enough to call them both out on it. It had been a big mess for a weekend, and then that irritating word began coming up at all opportunities. 

“God, he's so perfect! How can anybody be so perfect?”

“Your brother is absolutely perfect. Let me tell you what he did while I was at work today.”

“Is there any way this could be more perfect? He's just...Just last night, he was cooking dinner for me and…”

“I never knew anything could be so perfect. No one has ever been so perfect.”

“Man, it's never been like this with anyone else! Nobody else was ever so…”

The word just slammed into his head. He had created his own little drinking game without even meaning to. Every time he heard the word, he took a shot. 

Then tiny admissions of discontent had surfaced. It wasn't the relationship, they insisted. In all other ways, everything was just so-

Dean threw back a drink. 

“I don't get it. Why can't we get the hang of sex?”

He rubbed his eyes. 

Sam cleared his throat. “Look, I know you don't want to hear this. But who else can I talk to?”

He cleared his throat and opened his eyes wearily. He lifted a finger to summon the bartender. “How about Cas?” he suggested in vain. 

“God, no. I can't let him know I'm not completely happy with everything. It would break his heart! He tries so hard, and in every other way, he's always so-”

“Wait. Wait till I get my shot.”

“What?”

Dean sighed. “Sammy, you have to talk to him. If everything else is good, but the sex isn't? Then I hate to be the one to tell you-Trust me; I really do hate to be the one talking about this at all,” he added sourly. “Man, if it all seems good but the sex isn't, everything else isn't all good.”

The younger man froze beside him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

His drink was delivered, and he stared into it. “Dude, you just said you can't talk to him. If you can't communicate what you want, you aren't giving him a chance to be what you need. And I love the guy, I do, but you're going to have to spell it out for him, and you know it. If that's too awkward, you shouldn't be together.”

Sam’s mouth dropped. “What?” he hissed shrilly. 

Dean laughed suddenly. “Remember the year they had Officer Mills come in to talk to the high school kids about safe decisions? They never asked her to do it again, because she was so blunt about everything. It was hilarious. And I'll never forget when she just rolled her eyes and said, ‘Look, if we can't talk about it, we shouldn't be doing it, am I right?’ God, she was awesome. I thought Mr. Zachariah was going to fall off his chair when she started talking about birth control.”

Sam snorted a little. “He's the admin who suspended you for ‘fornicating with women in a classic car.’ Like it was worse because you were in the Impala in the student parking lot. And I like that he actually pointed out that it wasn't one girl. It was two women.”

He grinned. “I should have framed that one. Dad was so torn between being pissed and being impressed.” He sighed then, and looked back at his brother. “Point is, man, you gotta be able to talk. Sex is important. Don't pretend it ain't. If you love this guy, you'll give him a chance. Right now, you're just letting him drown. Throw the poor guy a line. If you think he loves you, and he does, then you gotta trust that he's noticed you're not clicking together, that you're not happy with the way things are. And you gotta trust that he wants to fix it too. Communicate. Seriously. Before, during and after.”

“Is this my brother telling me to communicate more?” Sam was smiling now. 

Dean put up his hand. “Don't turn this into a chick flick. This is about sex. And if you can't tell a girl-or, you know, a-a guy-what you want, you ain't gonna get it. You can have subpar sex the rest of your life and resent one another for it, or you can suck it up, have a few awkward conversations, and improve your whole relationship. If you can't talk about sex, you aren't going to be able to talk about money, or kids, or religion, or any of those other messy things. And shut up. I communicate plenty when sex is on the table. It's always in my best interest to talk before and during. After kind of sucks, but if it's more than a one-night thing, it's an investment in future sex to debrief and talk about what you did and didn't like.”

Sam nodded slowly, and took a sip of his beer. “Yeah, okay. Let me think on that awhile.” They were quiet for a time, and then his brother spoke again. “Dude, you realize you drink a lot more liquor than you used to?”

Dean sighed. 

***

Sam was chewing on his lip as Castiel entered the bedroom. 

“Sam? Is something wrong? I thought you would be in your den working.”

He watched the man slip out of his coat and jacket, and he felt a trembling smile come over him. “I thought we could...if you aren't too tired…”

Castiel was leaning down to remove his socks, but his blue eyes shot open wide, and he stumbled on one foot. He avoided crashing to the ground, but there was a significant thump as he leaned too hard on the wall. “Oh! No, of course not. Of course I'm not too tired, I mean. Not of course not to what you're-you're…”

They had moved in together long before they had begun their romantic relationship. Sam had come back after Stanford, and he had bought a home, then realized it would be easier if he had a housemate to help pay the utilities and watch the house and dogs when he was away on business. Dean’s buddy from the military had been having a hard time adjusting to civilian life, and when he expressed a need for a change from life at the base, Dean had set the two of them up. Many months later, he had set them up again. And now Castiel slept in the master bedroom instead of the secondary one. 

Castiel tugged at his tie, and began to pull it off. 

It was difficult, but Sam made himself speak. “Slow down. Okay? We...we don't have to hurry. Do we?”

Apprehension saturated those electric blue eyes. “No? Not-It's just that you usually seem to...You're not always...patient with me. So I thought…”

Sam stared. “I'm not?”

“You always start out by saying you only have a minute, or you have an early day tomorrow, or you're really tired. I just don't want to take too much of your time.”

A flush filled his cheeks, and he cringed. “I'm sorry, Cas!”

Castiel hurried to join him on the bed, and touched his cheek. “No, no! It's fine. I just wanted to say I don't mean to rush. I just thought you...I don't know...That you wanted to get it over with.”

“God,” he sighed. “Cas, I'm sorry. I didn't know I did that.”

“It's okay, my love.” 

He shook his head. “No.” He kissed Castiel's lips gently. “No, it isn't okay. Me being nervous isn't a reason for you to feel like you're on the clock. That's not fair.”

Gratitude and adoration shone in his lover's face. “I will try to make the best use of our time, regardless of how much or little we have.” Then he sat back. “I, um, I'd like to brush my teeth first, though.”

Sam laughed and lay back on the bed again. “Okay. I can wait.”

“I'll just be a minute.”

While Castiel went into the bathroom, he lay back and sighed. He couldn't help thinking this was going to be a disaster. Last time, Castiel had barely been able to finish. The time before that, Sam hadn't. It was becoming more like a chore than a pleasure. 

“Are you all right, Sam?”

Sam turned a half-smile on his lover. “Of course…” Then he licked his lips and forced the truth out. “But I'm...I'm nervous.”

Castiel frowned. “Why are we nervous?” he asked softly. He sat on the bed next to Sam. 

It was an admission that Castiel felt it too, and even if Sam knew he did, it was still a relief to hear it. “I think...I think we are so determined that everything between us be perfect that we don't know what to do when it isn't. You know, like if we have to work at it, something must be wrong.”

“We haven't had to work at much else,” Castiel agreed. “Everything else seemed to fall into place.” He narrowed his eyes. “Did it, though? I mean, we had already established patterns before we became a couple.”

Sam nodded. He gave a small laugh. “Right,” he remembered. “When you first moved in, I guess we had to figure out how things would go as housemates. So I guess we had already done that work.”

“You left your gym bag on the dining table,” Castiel teased gently. 

He poked him in the ribs. “And you left a trail of your clothes from the door to your bedroom each night. A shoe here, a coat there, like you were a dog shedding without even realizing it.”

“You still sing off-key in the shower.”

“And you still can't focus on anything else around you when there's a television on in the room. I still can't take you to a sports bar.”

Castiel was smiling happily. “You're still impossible in the kitchen.”

“And you're still a control freak while you're cooking.”

He laughed, and leaned in to kiss Sam's nose. “You are still infuriatingly good looking. You make it difficult to concentrate.”

“And you know your voice is far too deep for me to get through the day without calling you to hear it.” 

“So we do have problems,” Castiel lamented in a teasing tone. “A few of them seem to be irreparable. Should we just shake hands and part ways?”

Sam smirked, but his eyes gazed at Castiel in utter devotion. “I'll settle for you, if you'll settle for me,” he suggested. 

“It would be a great pleasure to settle for you, my love.”

He burst into laughter, and he could feel that the tension had eased in his chest, and Castiel's shoulders. “Let’s just touch tonight, okay? And-and talk. A lot. No goals. No finish line. Just touch and talk, and getting to know one another. And we’ve got all night for it. Don’t we?”

Castiel’s eye crinkles made Sam want to kiss him all over. “Yes, Sam,” he responded. “We’ve got all night, and every night.”

**Author's Note:**

> Know what's perfect? Comments. Comments are perfect. True.
> 
> ~Posing


End file.
